Drabble: Cry with Oswald and Barbara
by spankingfemfatale
Summary: Done as a drabble fic challenge! The prompt: Put a number and two characters from the same fandom in a comment, and get a drabble. This drabble was asked for by MDawn to write: The prompt: Cry with Oswald and Barbara. If you would like to participate, check my profile page here for the link to my Archive account and go comment!


Done as a drabble fic challenge! The prompt: Put a number and two characters from the same fandom in a comment, and get a drabble. This drabble was asked for by MDawn to write: The prompt: Cry with Oswald and Barbara. If you would like to participate, check my profile page here for the link to my Archive account and go comment!

MDawn Drabble Request: Oswald Cobblepot/Barbara Kean. Possibly Oswald offering very awkward shoulder to cry on when Barbara figures out Jim is seeing Lee

Why was she still here? Wasn't it enough that as she had parked her car here ready to go talk to Jim, see if maybe they could start over again, as if on cue, she saw that other woman slide up next to him on the front entrance sidewalk and casually hand him a coffee all the while looking at him with obvious attraction. The kicker though was seeing Jim's smile and gaze equally reflect that same attraction.

At that point, Barbara was sure she had lost him, but yet here she still was. What was she waiting for?

Oswald hobbled down the steps of the precinct, and she watched him go. His gait struck her as particularly forlorn, but perhaps it was her own melancholy she was projecting on him. All she did know was that when the odd little man had come around two hours before, he seemed to have a spring to his step, and now he just looked rather deflated. Barbra hadn't known for certain who Oswald had gone to see at the police station, but if she had to guess it was her Jim. Well, not 'her' Jim anymore…

Wrenching the car into gear, she pulled out of the parking spot she'd been sitting in across from the station going on three hours now to pull up alongside Oswald. She rolled down the window to call out to him, "Oswald!"

A momentary flash of terror registered in Oswald's eyes as he spun to face the vehicle before he realized who it was visibly relaxing to know it wasn't one of Maroni's hit men after his most recent near death escape from the man, "Barbara? Why hello there."

She gave him a forced smile, "You look like you might need a ride, and well, I figured I just happened to be in the neighborhood…" The truth of the matter was she was feeling lonely, and from the look of Oswald, he was looking a little lonely as well.

Oswald studied her a moment before opening the door and climbing in, "That's very kind of you. I was actually about to call a cab to take me to my new place of business. Fish Mooney's old establishment recently renovated; we're having the grand opening tonight. You are of course invited to attend as my personal guest of honor."

Barbara moved back in to traffic towards Fish's club. She didn't know her way around Gotham well, but that particular place after hearing Jim speak on it she had made a point to look up. She simply shook her head speaking softly, "No, I'm sorry. I'm not really up for being around a bunch of people tonight."

Sensing her anguish Oswald offered, "Well, there's no one there at the moment besides a few electricians, would you like to come by for a drink now before the club opens? Drinks are on the house of course, and in case you might think otherwise, I'm offering as a complete gentleman with no immodest intentions."

Barbara had to smile at the man's quirkiness. From what she could see, Oswald was being quite genuine so she nodded her agreement.

It didn't take long for the two to pull up to the bar, and Oswald directed Barbara to park in the back where they had cameras to ensure safety and a side entrance to the club used by employees. Oswald was sure to hold the door for her and pull out a seat at the bar before going behind the bar and asking with a goofy smile and a small snort, "So madam, what do I have the pleasure of fixing for you as our first customer."

Giving a small titter herself Barbara replied, "How about a good old fashioned screwdriver."

Oswald nodded swinging the floor fridge open to grab the OJ and snatching the bottle of finest vodka the place had, "The lady will have the best screwdriver in the house made by the owner himself!" Grabbing two glasses, Oswald made one for each of them although his eyebrows raised in surprise when Barbara had asked him to make hers a double. Oswald knew better than to drink more than one himself since he still had much to do in ways of preparation for the clubs opening, and more importantly, he wasn't very good at holding his liquor, so getting drunk would have likely been a disastrous mistake on his end with all he currently had at stake.

On some level, Barbara knew she was making a mistake coming here. She knew her weakness for addictions and her weakness to escape through such venues as alcohol from past mishaps, but at the moment she just couldn't bring herself to care.

The first drink she had practically downed like a shot and was more than halfway through her second drink when she dropped the small talk and asked curiously, "Tell me Oswald, you seem like a smart man. How is it that you and Jim… well how did he end up getting accused of murdering you?"

Oswald's eyes widened a bit at her directness before they turned to the ceiling a small sniff of a chuckle escaping as he recalled fondly just how well his plan that day had worked out for him now. Oswald focused on her once more a smirk played across his lips, "Oh that. Well, it's really a long story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time to thankfully being in the right place at the right time when it really counted. Let's just say I'm very grateful Jim is not a murderer!" As he said this, he rose from his seat moving behind the counter to pick up the bottle of vodka and quickly offer her another drink, "But enough about me, I haven't seen you in quite some time. How is everything going with you and James?"

Barbara was silent a moment as she nursed he drink before she stated, "…Jim's seeing someone else," she trailed off the heartbreak evident in her words.

Oswald blinked, "I… I'm sorry to hear that. Did you want me to speak to him on your behalf? Surely there must be some mistake. I…" Oswald trailed off as Barbara began to cry. He quickly grabbed a stack of napkins moving back around the counter to her side. "I… I didn't mean to upset you. Please… Here." His social awkwardness was evident as he held out the wad of napkins stiffly.

She had to laugh to look at him as she took the napkins from him his hand shaking slightly at her distress, "Thank you Oswald. I should probably be going now."

Oswald looked notably concerned, "I can have my man drive you home," he hailed to the beefy man leaning in the corner that lumbered forward at his beckon.

Barbara shook her head no as she stood, "I'm not drunk Oswald, I'm just a little emotional. I'm sorry I burdened you with my troubles."

"No, no. Really! It's no trouble at all Barbara," Oswald projected obvious worry for her wellbeing, "I'm more than sure you can drive, but I don't think you should in your state regardless if you're drunk or not. You are obviously distraught which can be just as dangerous if not more so. Please, at least let my man follow you home to ensure you make it safely. Would that be too much to ask?"

Conceding she nodded dabbing her eyes with the napkins in obvious embarrassment, "Okay. Thank you Oswald. I really appreciate the kindness."

Oswald shrugged shyly giving her a wide smile, "The pleasure is all mine Barbara. Please don't let this be a deterrent to visiting. You'll always be welcome here at my establishment you know."

Barbara gave him a weak smile grabbing her purse, "Thanks Oswald," she replied in a whisper as she walked towards the door.

Oswald's bodyguard moved to open the door for her following her out as Oswald sighed in dissatisfaction watching her leave a frown forming on his face knowing he would likely not see her again.


End file.
